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Is Arizona’s Kyrsten Sinema bad for bisexual Americans?

It wasn’t that long ago that embattled Arizona Sen. Kyrsten Sinema was hailed as a triumph of bisexual representation. After she was sworn in in January 2019, Out celebrated the first openly bisexual senator as a “rebuke to Trumpism,” positioning the “sassy lawmaker” in opposition to homophobic then-Vice President Mike Pence.

It wasn’t that long ago that embattled Arizona Sen. Kyrsten Sinema was hailed as a triumph of bisexual representation.

But just a few years into her tenure, public opinion has soured on Sinema. Instead of a brash, bisexual icon willing and able to stand up to the far right, she’s now seen as an unreliable centrist, a self-absorbed Democratic turncoat more fixated on getting attention andlining her own pockets than uplifting her community. No longer a bi icon, she’s now held up as a cautionary tale about the limits of representation.

As a bisexual woman — and one who, like Sinema, is white and cisgender — I now cringe every time the senator makes the headlines. Whether it’s fashion columnists dissecting her showy personal style, cartoonists mocking her as a “manic pixie dream senator” or the seemingly endless analyses of her inscrutability, Sinema seems to embody many of the nasty assumptions about bi women I’ve worked my whole life to avoid.

Five Sinema advisers resign, calling her ‘one of the principal obstacles to progress’

OCT. 21, 202103:36

Bi women are constantly told we’re untrustworthy, that our attraction to multiple genders means we’re more likely to cheat. We’re called greedy for finding more than one gender attractive, “confusing” for liking more than one gender and self-absorbed because apparently our brains are unable to think about much beyond our own sexual gratification. Within the LGBTQ community, bisexuals can be viewed as fair-weather members at best — likely to bail the second we stop having fun. Media outlets might not be talking about Sinema’s sex life, but her political reputation as greedy, unreliable and attention-seeking echoes many of the stereotypes my community has been dealing with for years.

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“Is she bad for the bisexuals?” I find myself wondering on a nearly daily basis. It feels uncharitable to put so much responsibility on one woman’s shoulders. Yet given that she’s arguably the most prominent bisexual woman in the nation, it feels fair to wish she’d put a little more effort into being a bit less of a stereotype.

At the same time, I find myself wondering why Sinema’s sexuality matters so much to me in the first place. What does “bisexual representation” actually mean in this instance?

Bisexuals have a unique perspective that should ideally be helpful when crafting legislation.

One obvious answer is that bisexuals have a unique perspective that should ideally be helpful when crafting legislation. There’s no question that bisexuals face our own particular challenges when it comes to topics like sexual health, mental health and abuse and assault.

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At the height of the HIV epidemic, bi people, and especially bi men, were frequently treated as vectors of disease; yet bi-specific outreach and education was thin. Research has shown that bi people, particularly bi women, are at an elevated risk for depression, anxiety, substance use and suicide; yet mental health resources are rarely targeted specifically to the bi community. Bi women are also at an elevated risk of abuse and assault: 2010 data from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention found that over 60 percent of bisexual women reported experience with rape, intimate partner violence or stalking, compared to over 43 percent of lesbians and 35 percent of straight women. Bisexual women are also extremely vulnerable to poverty: A 2019 report showed nearly 30 percent of the community living below the poverty line — a rate matched only by the percentage of transgender people of all sexual orientations living in poverty.

In theory, electing more bisexuals will lead to better legislation that more thoughtfully addresses bisexual-specific concerns, making sure bisexuals don’t fall through the cracks of public health, anti-violence and anti-poverty initiatives. But in practice, it’s clear that politicians from marginalized backgrounds don’t always act in the best interests of their community. Sinema herself is proof of that. Despite her own history with poverty, she’s worked to gut the social safety net provisions included in the Build Back Better Act.

Sinema ‘enjoying the attention, without putting out any policy’ expert asserts

OCT. 4, 202110:17

According to Gallup poll results published in February, about 3 percent of Americans identify as bisexual — and yet in over 200 years, there have only been two openly bisexual members of Congress: Sinema and Katie Hill, who stepped down less than a year into her first term after her ex-husband allegedly leaked private photos revealing that the couple had been sexually involved with a female campaign staffer. With Hill out of office, Sinema is the only bisexual member of Congress out of the 535 possible voting members. (For comparison, there are currently seven gay men and three lesbians in Congress.)

This brings me back to my frustration with Sinema. Watching news outlets eat her alive, it’s hard not to feel like America’s getting a rather poor first impression of what bisexuals bring to the table as legislators. Will voters shy away from other bisexual candidates out of a fear that we’ll turn out to be just as fickle as Sinema? Probably not, but it wouldn’t surprise me if some potential legislators found themselves less eager to publicly identify as bisexual in the wake of Sinema’s first Senate term.

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On the other hand, perhaps the opposite will be true. Maybe Sinema will inspire a new wave of openly bisexual politicians, simply out of a desperation to prove that Kyrsten Sinema is not an accurate representation of all bisexuals. If that were to happen, it’d offer an ironic twist on Sinema’s story. She could very well be the best thing to ever happen to bisexuals in politics — if only because she inspires so many of us to stand up and reject the example she’s set for the country.

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U.S. must resettle LGBT refugees

At the end of August, the last U.S. passenger plane disappeared from Afghanistan’s horizons. The Taliban had finally taken control of the entire country after several days of battles and fire within the capital city. The leaders of the Taliban declared a new state of rule from the presidential palace formerly occupied by President Ashraf Ghani. 

Soon after the Taliban’s taking of Kabul, Afghan men and women panicked in troves to the airport to flee oppressive rule. Getting a ticket onto an American bound plane was like winning the lottery for many Afghans. 

Canada declared it would help resettle 20,000 Afghans, purposefully including LGBT Afghans among that mix. Canada made its intention to resettle those who would suffer tremendously under Taliban rule: Gay and trans folk, and any other kind of queer person, among a few other marginalized groups. 

In early August of 2021, when the Afghan crisis was unfolding, a group of Democratic senators urged Biden to prioritize LGBT refugees. This group of senators, including Amy Klobuchar, wrote a letter to the State Department asking them to explain in greater detail a statement that Secretary of State Anthony Blinken made regarding LGBT asylum seekers. 

In February of 2021, President Biden signed a memorandum that instructed U.S. agencies to ensure the rights of LGBT persons around the world. After that memorandum was signed, the State Department under Sec. Blinken said that it would make an enhanced effort to protect LGBT asylum seekers. 

But the group of senators, in their letter, are still asking what has specifically been done to protect LGBT asylum seekers. What new steps has the Biden administration taken? And specifically, what steps has it taken to protect these LGBT refugees in Afghanistan? 

It’s time that the United States not only resettle Afghan refugees, but purposefully make it part of its mission statement to resettle LGBT people. Although, since 1994, the U.S. has acknowledged asylum claims based on homosexuality, during the latest Afghan crisis, the Biden administration never made any intentional effort to prioritize LGBT folk as refugees. Biden never came out and aggressively prioritized LGBT Afghans. 

Under Taliban rule, gay people are killed and thrown off buildings. Under the former Afghan administration, being gay was a punishable crime and LGBT folk who were outed were sent to jail. 

Taliban rule also spells disaster for trans people: Being trans is not even an option in Afghanistan, where the Taliban would surely kill trans people as well as those who are gay. 

Article 130 of the Afghan constitution implements Sharia law, which bans homosexuality. In these cases, men who have sex with men or women who have sex with women can be put to death. Moreover, Sections 645 and 646 of the constitution punish intimacy between two women with jail time. 

Some recent victims of Taliban rule describe how the Taliban is asking LGBT folk to identify others in the LGBT community within the country. They are promising a safe rite of passage to those who identify members of the queer community. Such targeting is inordinately cruel—asking members of the LGBT community to turn on each other. 

The Biden administration, armed with a liberal agenda, should create an LGBT refugee resettlement initiative. Some details about this kind of initiative have to be ironed out—take, for instance, the issue of metrics. How would the U.S. accurately assess someone’s LGBT status? If you were to argue that this initiative already exists, then I must ask—where is it? Where are these concrete steps that Biden has taken to make the lives of LGBT Afghans safer? Has he given a speech on this topic? 

Perhaps the administration can start by reaching out to LGBT nonprofits in these uncertain regions—Rainbow Railroad, is, for instance, an organization that helps LGBT people in the Middle East find better lives in safe countries. Other groups in countries such as Jordan help smuggle trans people to safer countries, such as Turkey. Preexisting LGBT citizens who seek help from these nonprofits can be identified by the Biden administration to come to the United States, seeking a safe rite of passage. 

Afghanistan serves as an example to help LGBT people who suffer in crisis. It’s high time that the U.S. government not only acknowledge LGBT asylum seekers, but place them on a pedestal, along with other groups who are immune to abuse. 

Isaac Amend (he/him/his) is a transgender man and young professional in the D.C. area. He was featured on National Geographic’s ‘Gender Revolution’ in 2017 as a student at Yale University. Isaac is also on the board of the LGBT Democrats of Virginia. Find him on Instagram @isaacamend.

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Coming out is a life-long process

“Tell me about your coming out,” my 30-something friend Seth recently said to me.

“It was more than a day!” I joked.

National Coming Out Day (NCOD) is on Oct. 11. The holiday, celebrated yearly on Oct. 11, was first observed on Oct. 11, 1988.

That date was the one-year anniversary of the 1987 queer rights march in Washington, D.C. More than half a million people were at the march, which was a turning point in the LGBTQ+ rights movement.

Robert H. Eichberg, a psychologist who died in 1995, and gay rights activist Jean O’Leary, who died in 2005, co-founded NCOD. 

Things have progressed so far for us queers since then. We can marry and serve in the military. We’re parents, cops, athletes, teachers and preachers.

In this era of marriage equality, it’s tempting to wonder: What is all the fuss about coming out?

But, a reality check shows that coming out still matters.

A quick look through the news headlines reveals why staying in the closet is so hurtful and how unsafe it can still be to come out as LGBTQ+.

If you’re of a certain age, you likely cried your eyes out when you watched the Disney movie “Old Yeller.” Who could forget the scene when the young boy Travis (played by Tommy Kirk shoots “Old Yeller” because his dog has rabies? In 2019, the Library of Congress added 

”Old Yeller” to the National Film Registry.

Kirk died on Sept. 28 at 79 at his Las Vegas home. Despite Kirk’s popularity with fans, Disney didn’t renew his contract because he was gay.

“I was caught having sex with a boy at a public pool in Burbank,” Kirk told the gossip columnist Liz Smith. “We were both young, and the boy’s mother went to Walt.”

In the 1960s, there was no way that an out actor would have had a chance in Hollywood.

I wish I could say that everything’s changed since Disney fired Kirk. But, this isn’t the case.

In August, Jamel Myles, a fourth grader in Denver killed himself, the Denver Post reported. His mother told the Post that her son, who’d come out to her as gay, took his own life because he’d been bullied for a year.

“We are deeply committed to our students’ well-being,” a Denver Public Schools spokesman said in a statement.

Unfortunately, Jamal’s story is far from unique. Nationwide, many LGBTQ+ students in the U.S. have been bullied. Nearly half (43 percent) of transgender youth have been bullied, according to the 2019 Youth Risk Behavior Surveillance survey. Nearly a third (29 percent) of trans youth, 21 percent of gay and lesbian youth and 22 percent of bisexual youth have attempted suicide, the survey reports.

Life is far more dangerous for queer folk in many places worldwide from Hungary to Ghana.

You could respond to this grim news by going to bed, staying under the covers—tucked in the closet.

But that would let homophobia and transphobia have the right of way. It would deny us the chance to joyfully, proudly, defiantly celebrate who we are.

Studies have shown that knowing us can help alleviate prejudice.

Family members, friends and colleagues may still feel uncomfortable around us because of our sexual orientation or gender identity.

But, it’s hard to hate your non-binary 10-year-old granddaughter on Christmas morning. Or your gay buddy at the gym.

One of my fondest memories is when I came out to my Aunt Manci. I worried that she wouldn’t accept my girlfriend. I needed have been anxious. “You’re lucky,” she said, “she loves you.”

Coming out is a process that lasts a lifetime—from deciding if you want to be out in the third grade to ensuring that your loved ones won’t erase your queerness from your obituary.

Coming out can be arduous. But, it’s liberating! Let the revels begin! Happy National Coming Out Day! 

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Living in a post-gender society

In the tail end of National Geographic’s “Gender Revolution” documentary, Katie Couric interviews Hari Nef, a trans model. Hari Nef is a beautiful trans woman, who has debuted at New York Fashion Week and acted in the TV show “Transparent.” 

“So what are you hoping the future will bring,” Couric asks Hari. 

Hari says,“I want a gender chill future. I want a community, a society, a world, that just chills out. About the freaking gender thing!”

Hari Nef couldn’t be further from the truth. 

The more we expect young people to conform to a male or female, the worse their mental health will be. 

Society’s obsession with gender reinforces the notion that gender is some intrusive, ubiquitous, significant force in children’s lives that should dictate their every move and influence their world views. The more we impress gender as an outsized influence in children’s lives, the more harmful it becomes in their brains. 

In reality, gender actually shouldn’t matter that much—if at all. The notion that there is “feminine” clothing and “masculine” clothing is slowly becoming outdated, as more women wear suits to party functions, as more men wear earrings and get manicures, and as more people come out as nonbinary. 

There’s nothing inherent about being transgender that makes trans folk suicidal. What instead makes trans folk suicidal is society’s weird fetish with gender and the massive influence it has on our lives, starting when we’re just kids. Society has taught many people that being transgender is some strange anomaly and fluke of nature, when in reality having feelings of gender nonconformity is actually quite normal and abundant among the population, and has existed since the beginning of time. 

Trans people have existed since inception. In the 4th century AD, a Roman priestess was found in North Yorkshire. She was born male but took on a female role as a priestess to the goddess Cybele. Buried artifacts revealed she was trans. 

In the 18th century, Chevalierr d’Eon was a transwoman who was a French spy and diplomat, having fought in the Seven Years War. Chevalier d’Eon lived a decorated life and snooped on Russian forces. 

During the Civil War, a Union soldier named Albert Cashier was originally born a woman. Albert lived as a man until his death and was buried with military honors. 

In current society, the Fa’afafine are a third gender in Samoa. Born as men, they traditionally veer toward effeminate appearance and style. The Fa’afaine community, deemed a third category of sex, allow individuals to explore their femininity without being persecuted by Samoan law. 

Unfortunately, some Americans tend to forget that being trans is a natural thing. It’s going to take a lot more activism to arrive in a post-gender world. While the Republican Party tramples on trans kids and prevents trans people from participating in sports, LGBT folk are forced to fight back and speak about their gender, almost nonstop—just in an effort to exist. 

Separating the world into two gender binaries—male and female—is extremely harmful for the human brain to handle. 

Living in a post-gender society means that one’s gender identity will be a casual topic of conversation with a friend—and not something that tears one apart from their family. Living in a post-gender society means we’ll do away with toxic gender reveal parties. Living in a post-gender society means all employees will use pronouns in their email signatures without second thought. 

In the 1950s, policemen across America punished men for dressing like women and even sent them to jail for this reason. Now American society is slightly decent enough not to do this (although police still victimize trans women). 

In the 1950s, the U.S. government outed and fired people for being gay, let alone trans. Now American society is decent enough not to do this. 

In the 2020s, the GOP is harassing poor trans youth who want nothing more than to not be bullied at school. 

Fifty years from now, in what ways will we be more decent as a society? What issues will we look back on in 2020 with disdain? 

The entire notion of male and female might be a good starting point.

Isaac Amend (he/him/his) is a transgender man and young professional in the D.C. area. He was featured on National Geographic’s ‘Gender Revolution’ in 2017 as a student at Yale University. Isaac is also on the board of the LGBT Democrats of Virginia. Find him on Instagram @isaacamend.

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What can the AIDS generation teach today’s activists?

The last decade has seen an explosion of films and books on the AIDS crisis, marking the end of the Second Silence — the amnesia toward the plague years evinced by many LGBTQ+ organizations in the late ‘90s and aughts. (The First Silence was Reagan’s callousness.) The desire to move on from AIDS was understandable — for more than a decade the community had fought a traumatic and exhausting struggle against a death sentence. 

The emergence of antiretroviral drugs in 1996 marked both a victory for people with AIDS and an opportunity for activists to leave the past behind and move onto civil rights battles, like marriage equality. By hastily moving on from AIDS history, however, we risked forgetting one of the most inspiring movements in the gay rights story that bequeathed, as Larry Kramer has argued, its greatest accomplishment: saving ourselves and others. 

Fortunately, that history is no longer at risk of being forgotten. Journalist David France’s Oscar-nominated documentary “How to Survive a Plague” (2012) and subsequent 2016 book has arguably done more than anything else to memorialize that history for generations of queer people too young to remember or born long after the crisis. Harvey Milk confidante and AIDS Memorial Quilt founder Cleve Jones’s memoir “When We Rise” (2016) added a layer of personal history to the AIDS years. Queer scholar Sarah Schulman’s new book “Let the Record Show” (2021) has been called by the New York Times a “Monument to the AIDS Movement” for its extensive survey of ACT UP — the frontline activist New York-based AIDS Coalition to Unleash Power fighting for drug treatment. To this growing list, we can add former ACT UP member Peter Staley’s upcoming memoir “Never Silent.”

A young Wall Street trader with political aspirations, Staley’s life was upended after receiving an HIV diagnosis in the early ‘80s. Staley didn’t panic; instead, he came out to his family, both as gay and HIV+, quit his job and threw himself into full-time AIDS activism. 

He quickly rose to become one of ACT UP’s most prominent members. It was Staley who confronted Pat Buchanan on a now-famous episode of “Crossfire” where the conservative co-host called gay sex Russian roulette. Staley rebuffed the homophobic moralizing and advised young men to use a condom and a lubricant — only to later fret that his anal sex advice might have made half the audience turn off the TV. CNN booked Staley to discuss ACT UP’s demonstration at FDA headquarters that morning demanding the agency stop slow-walking HIV drugs and permit people with AIDS quick access to treatment. Staley famously climbed the building’s awning to unfurl a Silence = Death banner. The FDA eventually fast-tracked the drugs — the first time the agency acted in response to public pressure. 

Staley is the best kind of guide to this history, particularly in relating the science behind AIDS treatment in common terms. Equally charming and even-handed, this is one story on the queer underdogs who roused a country from its indifference that should enter the AIDS canon. 

What makes his story endearing is the personal dimension that Staley feels nostalgic for. ACT UP was more than a movement, it was a family of creative, loving and joyous people. And plenty of sex. ACT UPpers were not into being shamed. They were going to have tons of safe gay sex. It was a badge of honor to be a movement slut — and Staley proudly confesses to being one. The death of friends never abated, but the darkness could be kept at bay by cultivating a supportive space where people could channel rage into constructive action. 

Righteous anger and a noble cause, Staley advances, aren’t enough to sustain a movement. Show me an angry activist, Staley cautions, and I’ll show you a failed activist. In order to keep going, people need a loving and forgiving space otherwise they burn out. 

ACT UP wasn’t all rainbows. Eventually, the movement split up due to an irreconcilable divide over strategy.

Through it all, Staley and his comrades took their work seriously but never themselves too seriously. There’s a lesson here for contemporary left-wing activism, which can be bogged down by smug indignation and righteous one-upmanship, and where incrementalism is mocked as selling out. AIDS activists took every opportunity, no matter how small, to push their agenda. 

And Staley and his comrades never forgot that activism is meant to serve a happy life. Their spirit sustained a movement that saved millions of lives. It’s one for the history books. 

Khelil Bouarrouj is an activist who writes about LGBTQ issues.

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Gay marriage won rare support. Will other LGBTQ rights follow suit?

In recent years, LGBTQ rights have made significant advancements in the United States, but there remain areas of growing legislative hurdles and challenges.

In a country that is divided on a long list of cultural and societal issues, the acceptance of gay marriage stands out as a remarkable exception. Once a divisive issue, it now has the support of 7 in 10 Americans, according to a recent poll from Gallup.

But perhaps even more impressive, gay marriage now has majority support across a long list of voter groups.

It’s probably not a big surprise that 83 percent of Democrats say they believe gay marriage should be recognized by law, but that’s also true of 73 percent of independents and, more unexpectedly, 55 percent of Republicans.

And the Gallup data shows strong support from young and old as well. More than 80 percent of those from ages 18 to 34, but also 72 percent among middle-aged Americans and 60 percent support among those 55 and older.

That last number is especially eye-catching. Older Americans tend to be more culturally conservative than the public at large and 60-percent support is a solid number.

To give a sense of just how solid support for gay marriage is today, compare it to Gallup’s numbers on some other somewhat divisive topics.

After decades of debate, the morality of abortion remains as divisive as ever — 47 percent of Americans believe it is morally acceptable.

Obamacare may be the law of the land, particularly after the Supreme Court’s June ruling on the law, but still only 56 percent of Americans believe the federal government should make sure people have health care coverage.

And, it may be close, but more Americans believe gay marriage should be legal than believe that global warming is occurring. It’s close (a statistical tie really) but gay marriage holds a slight edge in the percentages.

Those numbers give a sense of the depth of support for legal same-sex marriage and they are even more remarkable when you realize how fast opinions on the unions have changed. In 15 years, the issue has gone from culturally divisive to culturally decided.

How dramatic is that swing? Compare it to the relatively slow public acceptance of marriage between black and white Americans.

It took “interracial marriage” almost 40 years to gain acceptance in the United States — that’s comparing support the first time Gallup asked the question (1958) to when it broke 50 percent support in the 1990s. When Gallup first asked about gay marriage in 1996, only 27 percent of Americans supported legalizing the bond. In just 15 years, 2011, 53 percent of Americans supported legalizing the practice.

Court decisions on the two practices only drive the point home.

Even if one uses the Supreme Court’s 1967 Loving decision (the ruling that made laws against interracial marriage unconstitutional), as a marker for public opinion, it was still roughly 30 years before interracial marriage was accepted by the public. By the time the Supreme Court ruled that all states had to honor gay marriage as legal in 2015, 60 percent of Americans already favored that view.

In other words, the court was leading the nation on interracial marriage, but essentially following public opinion on gay marriage.

But not all issues are settled or headed in a positive direction for the LGBTQ community. Particularly on issues that concern transgender people, state legislatures are writing legislation to limit what that population can and can’t do.

Research from the group Freedom for All Americans finds that 38 different states have proposed legislation in 2021 that would limit what trans Americans can do covering areas ranging from sports to homeless shelters to medicine. Texas and Tennessee led the way with 12 pieces of legislation each, according to the group.

And Gallup polling data from this year shows there has been a slight decline in acceptance for idea of transgender people serving in the military. Support for the idea is still high, 66 percent, but down five points from where it was in 2019. That number bears watching. It could just be a blip or something more.

The real lesson in Pride Month, however, may be as much about politics and the malleability of public opinion in America today as it is LGBTQ rights.

After all, Pride Month itself is still a relatively young event. It was just over 20 years ago, only in 1999, that then-President Bill Clinton declared June “Gay and Lesbian Pride Month” for the first time. Back then, only 35 percent of Americans thought gay marriage should be recognized by law, half the number in the 2021 poll.

It’s evidence that even in a time of deep partisanship on what seems to be a contentious issue, opinions can still change — and rapidly

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What do you expect when you come to a drag show?

What do you expect when you come to a drag show? What I don’t expect to see is a drag queen getting arrested. But that’s what happened this past Saturday when the police came to the DuPont Underground and arrested an entertainer for alleged sexual assault on stage. Fortunately, the charges were dropped, but that doesn’t mean harm wasn’t done. The trauma and pain caused this past weekend runs deep, especially now during Pride month which was started out of our community rising up against police brutality.

As someone who does drag to entertain, to spread love, and to spread joy, I would never want someone to feel uncomfortable. The whole point of drag is to make those of us who have spent our lives feeling uncomfortable in the straight, cis, heteronormative world, finally feel like we’re free to be the gayest version of ourselves. But if someone does feel uncomfortable, there are ways to address it that don’t do deeper harm or cause more trauma to the people in the space. None of that took place this past weekend. There are paths toward restorative justice, and routes toward pain. And this past Saturday, a patron chose pain.

Drag shows always include guest interaction during the performances. For us that is how we have fun and bring the experience to all that watch. Unfortunately we had a guest, whom I’ll call Karen, who did not enjoy the performance or her voluntary participation in the show. The first action taken was to leave the venue, call the cops and report she was sexually assaulted. 

The restorative thing for Karen to do would have been what a Karen does best and to ask to speak to a manager. There were amazing staff from the DuPont Underground, people like myself who are well known in the space, and plenty of other official people who could have helped with a resolution to the situation. It’s also worth noting that the patron was white and female-presenting. White women using their tears to inflict pain on black people has been happening for centuries. But unfortunately, it takes acts like catching Amy Cooper in Central Park on camera for people to realize that this display is weaponized against black and brown communities — often knowingly and intentionally. 

This past Saturday, the tears were out in force when the cops were around, but it was all laughs and smiles when the cops weren’t. I don’t know what was in this woman’s soul, but having seen videos of people like Amy Cooper in Central Park and knowing that no one would believe you if you said Amy was making up the tears, I can tell you that white woman need to understand the power of their tears and the pain it causes to so many black and brown people.

The result was another member of our community spending the weekend in jail. Even though the charges were dropped against the performer, the humiliation of being arrested sticks. The conditions of being in jail caused her contacts to fail, and she (“he” in real life) now has an eye infection. And the quickly dropped accusation of sexual assault against him brought back real and painful memories of sexual assault in his own life. None of these things were necessary, and all were preventable by engaging in a process that doesn’t involve bringing in the same force that we fought to keep out when we started pride. Someone who has such a disregard for not only our community’s history but for the harm that can be caused by having someone sent to jail has no place in queer spaces.

As an entertainer who has had the pleasure of sharing the art of drag with hundreds of thousands of people of all colors and all backgrounds, my ask of the community is this: if you come into our spaces, know our history and know our pain. That responsibility comes with your $12 ticket. 

For resources on community mediation, please visit communitymediationdc.org

Jerry VanHook is best known as drag performer Shi-Queeta Lee.

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Claiming our power in the HIV-AIDS epidemic

“Unless we fight for our lives, we shall die,” wrote Larry Kramer in the New York Native in March 1983. Before Kramer’s article “1,112 and Counting,” gay people were doing what they could to care for the sick and mourn their dead with quiet dignity. 

After the article appeared in gay papers across the country, gay people grew increasingly unwilling to be quiet about the deaths of gay men and the preternatural silence about the epidemic from elected officials.

In San Francisco, the momentum generated by a July 1984 political march spiraled into support for an independent gay AIDS activist group in San Francisco. Gay community leaders tapped Paul Boneberg, then 31 and president of the Stonewall Democratic Club, to head the new group.

Mobilization Against AIDS came into existence in the fall of 1984 with the express goal of organizing street demonstrations, a goal it accomplished by staging monthly protests. Besides its street demos, Mobilization, beginning in 1985, took on the task of organizing the annual AIDS candlelight vigil that the San Francisco People with AIDS Coalition had started in 1983. 

As the 1980s wore on, and tens of thousands of gay men died with still no effective treatment for AIDS, Larry Kramer’s nerves were shot. 

In a March 10, 1987, speech Kramer gave at the New York Lesbian and Gay Community Services Center, today known as the LGBT Center of New York, he laid into the gay community as only Larry Kramer could. “If my speech tonight doesn’t scare the shit out of you, we’re in real trouble,” he told the group. 

By then, 32,000 AIDS cases had been reported across the country—nearly a third of them in New York. President Reagan still hadn’t spoken about AIDS to frightened Americans. 

“If what you’re hearing doesn’t rouse you to anger, fury, rage, and action, gay men will have no future here on earth,” said Kramer. “How long does it take before you get angry and fight back?” The crux of the speech was Kramer’s simple question: “Do we want to start a new organization devoted solely to political action?”

The answer was a resounding “Yes!” Two days later, about 300 people again showed up at the center where they formed ACT UP, the AIDS Coalition to Unleash Power. The group’s first demonstration—a protest on Wall Street against the exorbitant price of just-approved AZT, the most expensive drug ever to that point—introduced what became the group’s distinctive brand of street theater. ACT UP took the camp humor and theatricality of the Gay Liberation Front “zaps” to a whole new level.

As Kramer told me in our interview for “Victory Deferred,” “The fact that everybody responded to ACT UP, I think was more just a question of time, and moment, and frustration. It was the right time for it to happen.”

As in every catastrophe humans have faced throughout history, there were only two options for gay men when the viral cluster bomb erupted in the community: fight or flight. 

“AIDS made us choose,” said Paul Boneberg, in our interview in San Francisco for “Stonewall Strong.” “Most chose to stay and fight.” In his characteristically understated manner, Boneberg added, “It is my experience that our community is heroic.”

Larry Kramer put it a little differently in our 1995 interview. We talked in the living room of his Fifth Avenue apartment, the setting for some of gay America’s most historic moments, including the world’s first AIDS fundraiser in 1981 and, in 1982, the formation of GMHC, the world’s first AIDS service organization. Reflecting in particular on ACT UP, Kramer said, “Singlehandedly, we changed the image of gay people from limp-wristed fairies to guerrilla warriors.”

John-Manuel Andriote has reported on HIV-AIDS as a journalist since 1986. His most recent book, which he calls a bookend for acclaimed debut book ‘Victory Deferred’, is ‘Stonewall Strong: Gay Men’s Heroic Fight for Resilience, Good Health, and a Strong Community.’ The research materials and recorded interviews for Victory Deferred comprise a special collection curated by the Smithsonian’s National Museum of American History.

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Biden must stand up for LGBTQ Iranians

“I was arrested four times by the moral police because of being trans and because of my appearance. They also flogged me.”— A respondent to a 2020 survey by the Iranian Lesbian and Transgender Network (6Rang). 

Each June, LGBTQ Americans celebrate Pride month, notwithstanding the continuing challenges they face due to their sexual orientation or gender identity. Unfortunately, for their counterparts in Iran, Pride month—and every month—is Fear Month, a month of hiding who they are and whom they love in order to avoid arrest, imprisonment, flogging, and even execution. 

The Iranian regime began persecuting LGBT citizens immediately after coming to power in the Islamic Revolution of 1979. Iran’s first “supreme leader,” Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini, justified executing homosexuals as necessary to “eliminate corruption,” likening them to gangrene and claiming the condemned would otherwise “contaminate others and spread.” 

The regime has entrenched homophobia and transphobia in Iran’s legal system. The country’s Islamic penal code forbids consensual sex between two persons of the same sex. The law reflects pernicious gender stereotypes, punishing penetrative intercourse between two men with death for the “passive” party and 100 lashes for the “active” one—unless the latter is married, used coercion, or is not a Muslim, in which case he is also executed. The government gives 100 lashes to women who have sex with women, and executes them upon a fourth conviction for that “crime.”

According to the State Department, the security forces arrest individuals they suspect of being LGBT, force them to undergo “sodomy” checks while in custody, and put them on trial before kangaroo courts that don’t follow basic evidentiary standards. 

These aren’t rare cases. In the aforementioned 6Rang survey, almost 20 percent of participants claimed to have been victims of violence by police officers, security forces, prosecutors, and/or judges. Such violence could be inflicted merely for “different gender expression, breaching binary dress-code norms, insufficient hijab (Islamic veil) or participating in house parties.”

A government policy also outs gay Iranians and thereby endangers their lives. The regime treats homosexuality as a mental illness and consequently exempts gays from military service. Military exemption cards list the legal provision that excuses them from service, and thereby expose Iranians to violence from anyone who sees their cards. Ali Fazeli “Alireza” Monfared, for example, was murdered by family members after his half-brother opened a letter containing Alireza’s military exemption card.

The regime does permit and subsidizes what would normally be called gender-confirmation surgery, but this theoretically progressive policy is often malevolent in practice. Because Tehran criminalizes sex between two men or two women, the government and mental-health professionals and families pressure gay and lesbian cisgender Iranians to undergo unwanted surgery in order to be able to enter into same-sex relationships without fear of arrest and punishment. 

To add insult to injury, the authorities oppress trans Iranians regardless. One such episode demonstrates the regime’s evil in practice. “I complained to the police many times because of being assaulted on the streets and on the metro,” a participant in the 6Rang study said, “but because I had an earring, they asked me, ‘Why are you like this?,’ meaning feminine. I told them I am transgender. Then, they [the police] wanted to have sex with me and abuse me. When I didn’t accept that, they detained me for many days. After that they sent me to the court and the legal doctor. They kept threatening me that if they find out I have had sex with a man, they will hang me. After two weeks they finally released me, but all this time they had not even informed my family about me.”

On Pride month and every month, the United States must help LGBT Iranians. In his message proclaiming Pride month, President Biden said: “My administration is also working to promote and protect LGBTQ+ human rights abroad. LGBTQ+ rights are human rights, which is why my administration has reaffirmed America’s commitment to supporting those on the front lines of the equality and democracy movements around the world, often at great risk.”

The president must come through on his eloquent promise. He can start by sanctioning Iranian officials responsible for violating the human rights of LGBT people. He can use his renewal of our international alliances to encourage friendly and partner countries to likewise issue such sanctions. And he can prioritize human rights—including LGBT rights—in his administration’s ongoing diplomatic engagement with Iran. 

LGBT Iranians won’t be safe until their government is held accountable for abusing them. The U.S. cannot do so unilaterally, but we can and must lead the way.

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How do you solve the Kyrsten Sinema problem?

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Attendees of the White House reception for Pride month last week included high-profile LGBTQ leaders from activist groups, state legislatures, and the federal government. One lawmaker, however, was conspicuously absent.

Sen. Kyrsten Sinema (D-Ariz.), the only out bisexual in Congress, didn’t attend the event — an absence that stood out as members of the House LGBTQ Congressional Equality Caucus were there. Sen. Tammy Baldwin (D-Wis.), Sinema’s LGBTQ companion in the Senate, also showed up and was in the front row for President Biden’s remarks.

When the Washington Blade reached out to Sinema’s office to ask why the senator skipped the reception, her staff confirmed she had been invited.

“Kyrsten was invited, but was unable to attend as the Senate had recessed Thursday evening for state work period,” said Hannah Hurley, a Sinema spokesperson.

But the Senate recess didn’t stop Baldwin from attending the Pride reception.

It’s not the only event Sinema has skipped in recent weeks. When Vice President Kamala Harris hosted a dinner at the White House for all women members of the Senate, Sinema was the only Democrat not in attendance.

The absence of Sinema is almost metaphorical as she has become the target of ire for progressives who view her as an obstructionist to their agenda in the Senate.

Sinema, as she articulated in a recent op-ed for the Washington Post, has come out in strong defense of the filibuster in the Senate, which has been criticized as a relic of structuralism racism (although she’s not the only Senate Democrat to oppose dropping the filibuster).

“It’s no secret that I oppose eliminating the Senate’s 60-vote threshold,” Sinema writes. “I held the same view during three terms in the U.S. House, and said the same after I was elected to the Senate in 2018. If anyone expected me to reverse my position because my party now controls the Senate, they should know that my approach to legislating in Congress is the same whether in the minority or majority.”

As a result of her position, Sinema has been accused of holding up key legislation like the Equality Act, which would expand LGBTQ protections under the law. (It should be noted the bill as it stands doesn’t have unanimous support in the Democratic caucus and wouldn’t even pass without the filibuster on a majority vote.)

Also, the dramatic thumbs down she gave on the Senate floor on an amendment to raise the minimum wage to $15 an hour was interpreted as an insult to progressives pushing for the increase.

The transition for Sinema is remarkable. Starting her political career for the Arizona Legislature as a Green Party candidate who once dressed up in a tutu to oppose the Iraq war, Sinema’s latest incarnation as a conservative Democrat has some of her one-time supporters scratching their heads.

That will make things complicated for LGBTQ advocacy groups like the Human Rights Campaign and the LGBTQ Victory Fund, which have endorsed her efforts to win election, and for Democrats who sold her as the only out bisexual in Congress.

Sinema, after winning election in 2018 to a six-year term, will be in the Senate for a while and won’t face re-election until 2024. But progressives are already clamoring for LGBTQ advocacy groups to take a hard line with her regarding any future support.

Michelangelo Signorile, a progressive activist and Sinema critic, went so far in an email to the Blade as to say LGBTQ groups should withhold their endorsements entirely from Sinema.

“LGBTQ groups definitely shouldn’t be endorsing anyone blocking the Equality Act from being passed. Right now that includes every Republican and Joe Manchin and Kyrsten Sinema, who refuse to eliminate the filibuster,” Signorile said. “So of course they shouldn’t endorse her. How could the Human Rights Campaign or Victory Fund have any credibility while telling the community to invest hard-earned dollars with this politician?”

Sinema has always taken a one-foot-in, one-foot-out approach to her sexual orientation as a political figure. Accepting endorsements from LGBTQ groups, Sinema has attended events after her election hosted by them, such as an event with new LGBTQ members of Congress upon her election to the U.S. House in 2012. But Sinema has dodged questions about her bisexuality, telling the Washington Post in 2013 she doesn’t understand “why it’s big deal.”

The LGBTQ Victory Fund, for its part, is putting a degree of distance between itself and Sinema in response to inquires from the Blade, but not repudiating its support for her entirely.

Elliot Imse, a Victory Fund spokesperson, said his organization endorsed Sinema when the choice for Arizona voters was between her and “the anti-LGBTQ Republican candidate Martha McSally.”

“She is not currently endorsed by Victory Fund and we won’t be considering 2024 endorsements until summer 2023 – and much will happen between now and then,” Imse said. “As with all our incumbent candidates, the Victory Campaign Board will review her efforts to advance equality while in office as it is a key criteria for our endorsement.”

In response to an inquiry on whether the Victory Fund has reached out to Sinema about her policy positions, Imse said that would be inconsistent with his organization’s mission.

“Victory Fund has a very clear mission and we believe organizations are most successful when they remain laser-focused on that mission – so we do not take positions on specific policy or procedural questions,” Imse said. “We endorse and support LGBTQ candidates who will fight for and advance equality legislation and policies once in office and the LGBTQ members of Congress we’ve helped elect are the most outspoken and passionate voices on the Equality Act and other LGBTQ rights legislation.”

Having that “laser-focus,” however, isn’t true for other LGBTQ political groups, which do both endorsements and lobbying before Congress. Chief among them is the nation’s largest LGBTQ group, the Human Rights Campaign.

The Human Rights Campaign, however, didn’t respond to multiple requests for comment on Sinema or any discussions the organization has with her. That silence, however, likely won’t be enough for progressive activists angered with Sinema.

Signorile said Sinema’s absence from the White House should be seen as a red flag for LGBTQ advocacy groups on any future support.

“Sinema, by not attending Pride at the WH, doesn’t even make herself visible there. It’s almost like she wants to distance herself from being part of the community,” Signorile said. “She never talks about being bisexual, doesn’t discuss her coming out story — even if you ask her — and I defy anyone to find me a recent time in which she’s discussed being part of this community.”

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